All In Due Time
by callrnequeen
Summary: A collection of prompts for DantexLady Week 2018.


**A/N:** Hello, everyone! Long time no see, right? Well, anyways, dxlpartyboat on tumblr is hosting a DantexLady Week, and I of course wanted to be a part of it. This is _the_ OTP of my otps after all, which is why I've dragged myself out of the deep pit of procrastination I've let myself hide in, and you're seeing me updating something for the first time in a very long time. Anyways, this is my submission for day 1, and I hope you all like it. I did spend a lot of time on it. If I were to put this fic on a timeline, I would say that it takes place after Dante returns from hell after 2, and leading up to the events of 5. Enjoy!

 **Day One Prompt:** Comfort

 **Summary:** She knew, although it wasn't that big of a secret to begin with, that he got the best sleep when she was near. So, on nights like these, when it was just the two of them, the peaceful cover of darkness and the low hum of the television, she indulged him.

* * *

 **..**

 **Lay Your Head**

 **..**

It was something that happened involuntarily.

They would be settled on the sofa after a tiring day of demon hunting – or sometimes not. She would be on one side, he'd be on the other, and yet they would always somehow find themselves meeting in the middle.

Tonight was one of those nights when they relaxed just to _relax_. Things had been slow all week, something both were grateful for considering how hectic the previous month had been, so they had no qualms with kicking back and doing nothing… well, _she_ had no problem with it this time.

Besides, hesitant as she was to admit it, she still had a few wounds that needed healing, and this would be the perfect time for that.

If you asked her, and you should because that would be the wisest option, she would tell you that the wounds weren't a big deal. They were superficial, just scratches, really. And besides the one on her right shoulder blade which required stitches, all the care they needed consisted of a bit of antiseptic, a bandage, and… maybe a few kisses provided from your resident devil hunter.

Of course, that last requirement was subject to get you a vicious scolding or a death glare depending on the mood, so maybe it was more of a recommendation than a necessity and that quote-unquote "devil hunter" should proceed with caution.

Now, if you were to ask a certain red leather-clad someone, he would tell you that though those wounds she claimed were shallow, the blades that had caused them had come to close for comfort, and if she was feeling as sluggish as she had to be to earn her those injuries, maybe she should have stayed home and let him handle the job alone. Granted, these words would guarantee an argument, one that's tainted the air many times before in similar situations in which her well-being was concerned, but it was so very difficult to hold his tongue and keep his cool when it was he who had to deal with the aftermath.

Lady may vigorously claim her independence and her inability to accept his protection because of it, but when it was him that had to stitch her split skin back together, that had to deal with the crimson warmth of her blood staining his hands, and breathe in the metallic scent of it while he did so, well, she was going to hear something about it that wouldn't leave her too happy.

She could go ahead and accuse him of holding her humanity over her head if she wanted to, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The truth was that he worried about her. And sure, that was nothing if not a brief summary of a twenty-seven-chaptered book about the way he felt about her, but it was a truth nonetheless. Dante knew fully well that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Hell, she was a seasoned huntress, one of – if not – _the best_ in their field, and she wouldn't have lasted all of the years that she had if she wasn't capable. But he also knew that she was liable to slip up sometimes as well. Her scars, both faded and fresh, were a testament to that fact. And though her tendency to be caught off guard or overwhelmed didn't happen all that often, it was the times when she was, and the possibility that he wouldn't be there to protect her from a swing that proved fatal that set his mind, body, and soul at unease.

This time consisted of a job to take out a Faust turned three unsuspectingly. Any other time, and the surprise would have been taken with a grain of salt, or a few well-placed bullets, for lack of better words. But when one had just been bombarded with job after job with little-to-no recovery time in between, the situation became dangerous really quick. Anyone with even the slightest bit less experience probably would have walked away from the fight with a lot more than just a few cuts, some bruises, and six stitches in their back. That is to say, if they were even able to walk away from it at all.

Dante was much too far away to protect her from that first hit, one that tore into porcelain-white skin and spilt her blood, but Lady was skilled enough to come away from a swing meant to render flesh and carve through bone and ultimately leave her a bloody incapacitated mess on cold hard granite, with much less than that. It was more the second swipe that she stumbled into, a near victorious blow aiming to remove her head from the rest of her that he was much, much closer this time to guard against, that opened up a deep pit of despair in his stomach and had him losing sleep even now, two weeks after it had happened.

You could call it him being overprotective or whatever, but he took it to heart when she got hurt. Even when the thought of her being injured in any type of way crossed his mind, it left a bad taste in his mouth and a severe pain in his chest. She was one of the very few people he considered a significant part in his life, and in a world that was awfully fond of stealing away from him every little bit of happiness it could get its greedy little hands on, those feelings increased tenfold. He wished he could come up with a way of keeping her out of harm's way without her eventually coming to hate him, but it wasn't so. All he could do for the moment was trust in her ability to not get herself killed, and to trust in his to protect when the time ever came for him to do so.

For now, however, the arguments had been had and the apologies were given. Though the air was still a bit strained with thoughts left unsaid, it was just the two of them in the dark of his shop, the warmth of a – miraculously – working heater on their skin, and the illuminating light of a TV program he had been since stopped watching surrounding them.

It was a combination of these things that had him feeling relaxed, but it was truly the honeysuckle of her scent, along with the sharp smell of steel and gunpowder as she polished off her weapons beside him, that put his mind at peace. They each had started out on opposite ends of the couch, both willing to share the same space but reluctant to be any closer than necessary, but as the night wore on, he found himself closer to her than he remembered being. Now, with her body heat at his shoulder and the nights of no rest catching up to him all at once, he found himself being lulled to sleep.

Dante wasn't sure how long he had been asleep before something startled him awake. The office was still dark and surrounded by a peaceful quiet, sans the low hum of the television, so he guessed that it couldn't have been for that long.

He surveyed his surroundings with bleary cobalt eyes, wondering when exactly he nodded off, when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was an amazing thing, really, how even in this level of darkness the cherry-red of her left eye and the granny apple-green of her right, could prove to be so vibrant. Even as the TV cast shadows on the rest of her features, the night did nothing to dull the colors and their beauty remained untouched. At once, she blinked, dark lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks for just a quarter of a second, but it was enough to break him out of a trance he wasn't aware he was in.

A little guiltily, Lady pulled her hand back from the coffee table, TV remote clasped in hand. "Sorry," she apologized, voice barely above a whisper, "Didn't mean to wake you."

In response, Dante shrugged, wincing when he found his neck was a little stiff. "S'okay." he slurred. Watching as she settled back into the sofa, he frowned at noting a dark splotch on the shoulder of her baby pink t-shirt. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth sheepishly, wincing for an entirely different reason now when it came back wet.

The next time he caught her eye, there was a teasing lilt to it.

"S'okay," she mimicked, left arm outstretched to turn the TV to a different channel. Flipping absently through the programs, she sighed to herself. Even when she wasn't looking directly at him, she could still see the deep set of his brow and the downturn of his mouth as he frowned. There was no need for him to verbalize his discontent, she knew him well enough at this point that she could practically read his mind. Right now, he was upset at himself because he had been unconsciously resting on her bad shoulder. "Dante, it's fine."

At the reassurance, he only gave a grunt, arms moving to cross over his chest as he watched her flip through different stations.

Lady sighed to herself again.

There was a brief moment of silence in which Lady continued to look through networks and Dante continued to watch silently, frown still adorning his face. And then Lady finally stopped on a show, a re-run, of one of her and Patty's favorite soap operas, and Dante yawned, loudly, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

"You should go to bed." Lady commented, settling the remote on the cushion beside her.

"I'm not-" he started, until he was interrupted by another yawn. This time at least, he was graceful enough to try to hide it in his shoulder. "I'm not tired." He finished, turning back to meet her side-eye head on. He held her look for a moment longer before he let out a scoff and turned his attention back to the television. "What about you? It's late. You should be heading to bed by now, too."

Letting her gaze return to the drama taking place in front of her, she gave a little shrug with her good arm before she deemed him with a response. "Not tired either." There was something in her tone, something like sarcasm or otherwise directed at him, that he chose to ignore. "Besides, I'm behind on my shows and would rather catch up before Patty and her big mouth spoils something for me again."

That, she said with a smile on her plush lips. No matter how many shows she may spoil, there was no mistaking the fondness Lady held for the preppy teen. Big mouth and all that came with it.

With a soft snort, Dante tried, and failed miserably, to hide another yawn. At this point, there was no way that he could deny his tiredness, and he knew the second his eyes closed again, it would be a done deal. The truth of the matter was that he wanted to go to bed, just not without her. He had too many thoughts on his mind, all of which concerned the woman sitting less than a foot away from him, and if he were to leave the comfort of the couch she occupied and head to the cold, dark recesses of his room, he knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep anyway. Just as he hadn't the last several nights.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?"

Dante blinked, and didn't even realize until he did, that he had nearly nodded off. Again.

"Pot calling the kettle." He replied groggily, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head.

To that, she gave an unladylike snort.

"Yeah, I doubt you even know what that means." With an eyeroll, Lady sat up fully, gathering up a couple of pillows behind her and making herself as cozy as possible before she reached out an arm and beckoned the half-devil closer. She wished they would've remembered to keep some blankets down here, or at least one nice comforter. She supposed that that would be something she'd have to remember for the next time.

"Alright, big head, come on." The huntress called to him affectionately. She made a gesture for him to lay his head on her lap, and then pulled on his arm non-too-gently when he did nothing but blink heavy-lidded blue eyes in her direction. "Come _on_."

At her insistent pulling, he gladly fell right into her lap, right cheek pillowed on the soft warm skin of her thigh. The sweet honey of her scent was much stronger here, as was her warmth. He readjusted himself so that his lower half was still mostly on the couch but was in a much better position given the angle that he had to work with, and once he felt her slender digits begin to tread delicately through his hair… well, he knew in that instant that this was a done deal.

Nuzzling into her belly more out of instinct than anything else, he took in a lungful of her scent, and when he let it out, a sound akin to a purr came with it.

He felt, more than heard, her laughter.

"Take it as a compliment, babe." He said, a smile coming unbidden to his lips.

"Of course, I will," she returned, hand continuing to stroke through soft white locks. She had long since lost interest in what she was watching and was more concerned with memorizing the texture of it. "Just try not to drool on me this time, alright?"

She felt the puffs of his warm breath through the thin fabric of her shirt as he chuckled.

"With the way you've got your hands running through my hair like this, sorry, but you're asking for too much." Curling an arm between her back and the pillow she was resting against, he pulled her tighter against himself, wanting to be as close to her as he was physically able to be. It was becoming more and more difficult to move his mouth to form a proper sentence, and he could once again feel himself succumbing to slumber. "Though, I will try my best not to…"

She felt him slump against her as he trailed off, body finally giving in to some much needed sleep. Though he was no longer awake to feel it, she continued with her ministrations, hoping to ease him into a good night's rest with the soothing gesture. She took a moment to admire the way her fingers wove about his ivory strands as she stroked through the locks. Though she couldn't see his face in its entirety, the part that she could see was free of the worry it seemed it could never be rid of these days. Whether it was worry for his friends, concern for her, or a fear of the unknown, especially with all of the recent demon attacks happening as of late, the emotion played a constant role on his features more often than she cared for.

Absently, she let her finger trail a path down his face – over the deep-set of his brow, across the hard ridge of a cheekbone, and further still, until she was grazing stubble. She let the digit rest there for a bit, not really paying attention to anything but the prickly feeling of it, and was hit all at once by the familiar roiling in her stomach that she got every time she let her thoughts settle on him for too long. It wasn't a bad feeling. No, it was quite the opposite actually. But it wasn't anything that she was too comfortable with dwelling on for long periods of time. In actuality, she was more than aware of what the feeling was, but refused to acknowledge the name of it. At least, not just yet.

With that thought in mind, Lady gave a sigh, shaking her head slightly at herself and returning her hand to its previous position in his hair. She ran her nails along his scalp, amused by the light rumbling emanating from his chest in response to the stimulation, before her eyes found the television once more.

It was there in the dark – the weight of him against her front and the warmth of his arm at her back, the night, tranquil, and encased in a silence that spoke of a temporary reprieve – that she found her peace.

* * *

 **A/N:** So this fic was originally supposed to be, at most, 500 words. But just as I have zero control over my own life, I had no control of this fic and it got away from me. Hopefully it didn't drag on or wasn't too boring. I haven't written anything for DxL since... shit, I think 2012? Yeah, I haven't written anything for them in 6 years, so if they seem OOC, well that's why. I'm rusty. And I also based their personalities on what I've seen so far of DMC5. I'm very fond of Lady's new one and enjoy seeing her smile and looking radiant. She also seems a little sweet on Dante, but maybe that's just me. Anyways, I'm gonna go now, I have 6 more of these things that I've gotta do, and I don't know how I'm gonna make it haha. Please pray for me ahaha.


End file.
